Latest news with #V-1
&w=3840&q=100)

Business Standard
4 days ago
- Business
- Business Standard
Best of BS Opinion: How the calm today may be masking deeper risks
You know that moment when your car hums along just fine, but one weird little light on the dashboard keeps flickering? That quiet, pulsing reminder that even though everything feels normal, something might still be off under the hood? That's how the world also feels right now, technologies are advancing, markets are steadying, systems are stabilising, but those little blinking lights? They're everywhere. Let's dive in. Take the bond market. Nir Kaissar walks us through a reality-check: people are panicking over interest rates, but zoom out and the current 4.5 per cent on 10-year Treasuries is historically normal. The bigger issue? We're just not used to it anymore after years of easy money. The machine is working but fiscal red flags like $5 trillion in potential deficits or unsustainable tax cuts are blinking. Ignore them, and we might end up stalling on the highway. Meanwhile, Mihir S Sharma cautions that with artificial intelligence, the system isn't just running, it's accelerating like a Tesla in Ludicrous Mode. But no one agrees on where it's heading. Some say AI will democratise creativity and generate jobs. Others predict mass layoffs and existential threats. Will it empower developing countries or further divide them from AI-rich superpowers? The engine is sleek, but no one can read the road signs ahead. And for Pakistan, Shekhar Gupta points out a particularly worrisome light on the regional dashboard: Field Marshal Munir. A military chief with unprecedented power, a hollowed-out civilian government, and a jailed popular rival (Imran Khan) — this isn't a hybrid regime anymore, it's a duckbilled platypus of power. Past performance, as they say in mutual fund ads, is no guarantee of future returns. But in Pakistan, past power-hungry generals have ended up disgraced, exiled, or dead. Munir, however, seems poised to act while he still can. India, beware: the system next door may look stable, but it's humming toward a potentially explosive 12 months. Then there's Devangshu Datta, who shows how GPS and drones, marvels of civilian tech, are now shaping military arsenals. From V-1 flying bombs to AI-guided kamikaze drones, our tools for convenience are doubling as tools for conflict. Precision strikes and geolocation warfare are here, whether we're ready or not. The system works brilliantly, for both Swiggy and the battlefield. Even climate scientists are leaning into geoengineering, as Kumar Abishek writes. Solar Radiation Modification might temporarily cool the Earth by bouncing sunlight back into space. It's technically feasible, increasingly funded, and yet deeply risky. The cooling may come with unintended consequences and no global playbook to manage them. The science is on, but the ethics light is blinking furiously.


Indian Express
27-05-2025
- Science
- Indian Express
The rocket science behind missiles: Newton's laws, neural networks and algos
On a summer day in 1944, residents of London heard a strange buzzing sound overhead—like an outboard motor in the sky — followed by silence. Seconds later, a blast ripped through a block of houses. The age of the modern missile had begun. That sound came from the V-1 flying bomb, a German cruise missile. It wasn't very accurate and could be shot down, but it marked a turning point: the use of guided, long-range, autonomous weapons. Since then, missile technology has grown from noisy buzz bombs to nearly undetectable hypersonic gliders that can maneuver at several times the speed of sound. But behind the scenes, it's all about physics — a complex dance of speed, trajectory, control, and prediction. From ballistics to brains The earliest missiles were just arrows and spears—unguided projectiles. In fact, the word 'missile' comes from the Latin missilis, meaning 'that which may be thrown.' The science behind them is ballistics: the study of how objects move through the air under the influence of gravity and drag. Ballistic missiles still exist today, but modern ones are far from simple. A ballistic missile is one that is powered during only the early phase of its flight. After that, it coasts along a parabolic path—just like a rock thrown into the air, only faster and farther. A typical intercontinental ballistic missile (ICBM) reaches altitudes of over 1,000 km and speeds of Mach 20 (20 times the speed of sound). Once launched, they are almost impossible to intercept. But pure ballistic paths are predictable — and that's both their strength and their vulnerability. So modern missiles add another ingredient: guidance. Guided missiles and the problem of precision To hit a moving target — a plane, a tank, even a ship — you can't just aim and hope. You need to adjust in real time. That's what guided missiles do. They carry sensors (like radar, infrared, or GPS) and control systems (gyroscopes, fins, internal thrusters) that steer them mid-flight. The problem is harder than it looks. Consider this: you're trying to hit a plane flying at 900 km/h from 40 km away. By the time your missile reaches it, the plane will have moved. So you don't aim at where the target is — you aim at where it will be. This involves solving what's called a 'pursuit curve', a classic problem in mathematics where the pursuer constantly adjusts its path toward the moving target. In the early days, this was done using analog computers. One famous story involves British engineer Barnes Wallis using bicycle chains and gears to model bombing trajectories. Today's missiles use high-speed processors and AI-based prediction, but the challenge remains the same: predicting future motion in a world full of uncertainty. A brief look at rocket science Every missile is, at heart, a rocket. Rocket propulsion follows Newton's Third Law: for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. Burn fuel and expel gas out the back, and the missile is pushed forward. The real challenge isn't just going fast — it's controlling flight at those speeds. When the Mach number crosses 1, the air surrounding the rocket undergoes a process called shocking, resulting in intense friction and heat. Missiles need special heat shields and materials that won't melt at thousands of degrees Celsius. Their electronics must survive g-forces that would crush a human. Modern missiles push into the realm of the hypersonic — speeds above Mach 5. These include hypersonic glide vehicles, which detach from rockets and surf the upper atmosphere while maneuvering unpredictably. Unlike traditional ballistic missiles, their path is hard to model, making them extremely difficult to intercept. Both China and the U.S. have invested heavily in these next-generation systems. India's DRDO is also testing hypersonic platforms. These weapons don't just travel fast — they're smart, maneuverable, and virtually impossible to defend against with today's technology. What makes hypersonic missiles especially disruptive is not just their speed, but the shrinking response time they impose. A traditional ICBM may give its target 30–40 minutes to react; a hypersonic missile could cut that to under 10. That changes the calculus of deterrence and defense. Even tracking these weapons is a challenge: at such speeds, air friction generates plasma that can block radar signals. As a result, militaries worldwide are racing not only to build hypersonic weapons, but also to develop new space-based sensors and directed-energy countermeasures to stop them. Pigeons and missiles In World War II, American psychologist B.F. Skinner proposed a bizarre idea: use pigeons to guide missiles. He trained the birds to peck at an image of a target projected on a screen inside the missile's nose cone. Their pecking movements would steer the missile toward its goal. Though never deployed, Project Pigeon (and its later version, Project Orcon, for 'organic control') showed the creative lengths to which scientists would go in the early days of missile guidance. Today's systems rely on microprocessors, not pigeons—but the principles remain the same: sense, compute, correct. The science of predicting impact At its core, missile science is about solving a fundamental problem: how do you strike something that's far away, possibly moving, and maybe trying to avoid you? The answer lies in physics, engineering, and increasingly, artificial intelligence. That challenge grows more complex as defenses improve. Missiles must now anticipate evasive maneuvers, adjust mid-course using real-time data, and sift through decoys or electronic jamming. A modern air-to-air missile might make hundreds of tiny course corrections per second, all while enduring intense heat, G-forces, and signal noise. The missile, in effect, becomes a high-speed problem-solver — guided not just by brute force, but by algorithms and sensors that mimic decision-making under pressure. It's a blend of old and new — Newton's laws and neural networks, calculus and code. And while the technologies have evolved dramatically, the underlying science has stayed remarkably consistent. Even the most advanced missiles still obey the same principles as a stone flung from a slingshot. The only difference is that today, the stone flies at Mach 10, thinks for itself, and rarely misses.


India.com
13-05-2025
- Science
- India.com
Where was world's first missile made 70 years ago? The country is..., over 20000 missiles were fired at...
(Image: World's first missile: The world's first missile was developed by two German scientists, Walter Dornberger and Werner von Braun. During World War II, the German dictator Hitler ordered both of them to create a weapon for the Nazi army that could strike from a distance, utilizing combat aircraft or other launchers. These were the V-1 and V-2 rockets. In 1944, they were used in a barrage of attacks on London. In fact, as early as 1935, German engineer Braun started working on a classified missile programme. Walter Dornberger was the head of artillery for the German army. Dornberger played a crucial role in both World War I and World War II. He was in charge of Germany's V-2 rocket missile and the Peenemünde Army Research Center project. Following Hitler's directives, the German village of Peenemünde was converted into a missile manufacturing factory before World War II. Hitler's Terrible Blunder According to a BBC report, these German engineers assured Hitler that success in rocket testing would easily allow them to win World War II. German scientist Albert Speer was also with them, but Hitler did not agree. The Second World War began in 1939, while the missile program started in 1935. However, Hitler approved the programme to create missiles from rockets in 1943. By then, the German army had already suffered defeats on many fronts in the war. If Hitler had granted approval in the early stages, the story might have been different. Hitler's Secret Missile Factory The village of Peenemünde in Germany was turned into a secret missile factory. Peenemünde was located on the banks of the Peene River in an island of Germany, where this river flows into the Baltic Sea. This large tourist spot was where engineers conducted the rocket missile program from 1936 to 1945, as the area within a 400-kilometer radius was extremely desolate. About 12,000 Jewish workers were assembled for the missile factory and testing. The world's first cruise missile factory was spread over 25 kilometers. There is a museum in Peenemünde where pieces of rockets, engines, and other equipment are preserved. Germany's Successful Missile Test Germany's rocket Aggregate 4 (A-4) was successfully tested in 1942. This was the world's first long-range rocket. It was named the Vengeance Weapon or revenge weapon. The British intelligence agency learned about this rocket factory in 1943. The British Royal Air Force conducted the largest air raid here on August 17, 1943. The factory was relocated to the town of Mittelwerk. After the war, the Allied powers led by the United States, Russia, and Britain tried to acquire the A-4/V-2 missile technology. The first operational cruise missile V-1 was the world's first operational cruise missile. Due to its loud motor, it was called a buzz bomb or doodlebug. Between 1943 and 1945, more than 20,000 missile attacks were carried out on Britain and its allied countries using this rocket. Most of these were conducted on London and the Belgian city of Antwerp between June 1944 and March 1945. It had about one ton of explosive and a range of up to 240 kilometers, but it failed to hit its targets. The first attack was carried out from Germany on Britain on June 13, 1944, during Normandy. The British forces were taken by surprise by this new weapon and it was dubbed the flying bomb. In 1944, Dornberger he was made the chief artillery commander in the German army. But as soon as World War II ended, he was captured again. He was accused of torturing slave labourers for preparing the world's first missile, the V-2 rocket. Von Braun was, in true terms, was the missile man of Germany. He developed ballistic missiles for the U.S. Army, making it a superpower. With the help of such powerful rockets, America launched its first satellite. After World War II, German scientists received invitations from allied countries such as America, the Soviet Union, Britain, and France. Von Braun preferred to stay in America. He was part of America's classified space mission Apollo, which enabled American astronauts to reach the moon. With Von Braun's rocket technology, America developed intercontinental missiles capable of striking from one continent to another.
Yahoo
26-03-2025
- Science
- Yahoo
Journalist unearths grandfather's Nazi past, shares all in powerful podcast
The Brief When Suzanne Rico dug into her family past, she discovered her grandfather, Robert Lusser, was a Nazi scientist. Lusser was the father of the Nazi V-1 flying bomb. Now, Rico has a podcast where she shares the story and confronts her family's history. LOS ANGELES - Tracing your roots can lead to a treasure trove of information. For one journalist it also meant a dark discovery. Along with celebrating her grandfather's NASA credentials, Suzanne Rico unearthed his shocking Nazi past. The backstory Sifting through a table covered with books and family albums, articles and old VHS tapes, Rico said "when I was a little kid my mom never told us any about this." Vintage family videos from Germany showed the grandfather she'd never met. An obituary article read "Robert Lusser: aviator, aircraft designer and father." SUGGESTED: World War II-era boat emerges from shrinking Lake Mead What's missing in that obit? "He was one of Hitler's top scientists," she says. Rico reacts "I get sick to my stomach." Rico's grandfather, Robert Lusser, was the father of the Nazi V-1 flying bomb. "He created the world's first cruise missile," said Rico. The V-1 was a weapon used against the allies in World War II. V-1 rockets killed thousands of people in Great Britain. Rico said it was "Germany's last weapon in the Second World War." What we know Rico now has a podcast telling this jarring family story. It's called The Man Who Calculated Death. The inspiration came as a dying wish from her mother more than a decade ago to complete an unfinished memoir. Her mother survived a bombing that killed Rico's grandmother, Lusser's wife. While still grieving the passing of her mother, Rico's journalism skill set kicked in. From 2002 to 2010, Rico was a morning news anchor at KCBS, Channel 2 in Los Angeles. After her era on air there, she spent 10 years digging into the family chapters untold. She called it "the hardest thing I've ever done." With the knowledge that says she also had to process generational guilt. SUGGESTED: WWII soldier's remains found, ending family's 80-year search: 'He's a hero' Her grandfather was not among those charged with war crimes. Lusser, in fact, would end up in America. "Finally in 1948, the Americans found him and brought him over," Rico said. Lusser was recruited for "Operation Paperclip," a secret U.S. intelligence program that brought Nazi scientists to America. The U.S.' adversary was the Soviet Union, and the race to space was on. Lusser died in 1969. Rico still has questions, particularly, "Was he a Nazi in his heart, or was he just a brilliant airplane designer born in the wrong time and place?" Big picture view Rico also had to face another reality of that time: the Holocaust and the genocide of 6 million Jews by Nazi Germany and collaborators. Rico's husband is Jewish and they have two children. Rick said that during her research, "all I could think about was my husband and family and my children." Rico has also befriended a Holocaust survivor. She says she apologized for her grandfather's role in the Nazi war machine. The podcast The Man Who Calculated Death is available wherever you find your podcasts. It has just received a national Gracie award. The Source Information in this story is from interviews with Suzanne Rico, and her podcast, The Man Who Calculated Death.
Yahoo
25-03-2025
- Politics
- Yahoo
Contributor: The culture of shhh — what my Nazi legacy taught me about silence
Oskar Jakob, 94, is a Jewish Holocaust survivor who once assembled V-1 flying bombs in a subterranean concentration camp, and I'm the granddaughter of the engineer who developed those secret Nazi super weapons. Despite or perhaps because of our respective histories, we've worked to become friends. And while I've known Oskar for a few years, it's only recently, as neo-Nazis flew swastika flags in Cincinnati and Columbus, Ohio, that I felt the need to use my own ancestry to fight this brand of hate. The white supremacist demonstrations in Ohio weren't one-offs. Last fall, another black-clad group, their faces covered, did the same just three miles from Oskar's St. Louis home. 'America for the White Man,' declared the banner they hung from an overpass on Interstate 64. Oskar's son snapped a picture as he drove by and sent it to me along with three angry-face emojis. These incidents made me angry too, but also profoundly uncomfortable. What is the proper response when thugs perpetuate the hateful rhetoric of a political party to which your grandfather once belonged? And what could be more uncomfortable than the weight of the history between Oskar and me? Read more: Contributor: Putin's diaspora will echo 1939's, but going in the opposite direction In 1945, after 40 of Oskar Jakob's family members died at Auschwitz, the SS imprisoned him at the Mittelbau-Dora camp in Nordhausen, Germany. Deep in the tunnels of this former gypsum mine, 14-year-old Oskar was forced to rivet sheet metal used to make Vergeltungswaffe Einz: Vengeance Weapon #1. This was the world's first cruise missile and my grandfather Robert Lusser headed the Luftwaffe project to create it. I met Oskar eight decades later when I flew to St. Louis to interview him for a podcast I host about my German history. I'd been wanting to speak with a survivor for years, but it wasn't easy to connect because each Holocaust group I asked for help declined. Putting a relative of the Nazi engineer who created weapons of mass destruction in touch with a slave laborer who assembled them in conditions so horrific that 20,000 prisoners died was a nonstarter. But finally, I found Oskar, and on a warm spring afternoon, I found myself sitting in his neat dining room, listening to him tell of a night when guards caught a group of prisoners resting. 'They hung 70 people simultaneously, and we were forced to march by the dead bodies and everybody had to punch them with their fist,' he said. I stared out at the bright, Midwestern afternoon, longing to feel the sun on my face. Read more: After 80 years, not many Auschwitz survivors are left. One man makes telling the stories his mission 'I feel very much like I want to tell you that I'm so sorry,' I said instead, not exactly sure on whose behalf I was apologizing. My own? My family's? All of humanity? 'I appreciate that,' Oskar said, his face folded neatly, like an old map. 'Up 'til today I have never heard from a German that they are sorry for what I went through.' Technically, I'm not German. My grandfather immigrated to the United States in 1948, recruited to build bombs for America. I had ignored my controversial German legacy for most of my life. After all, no one really wants to ask the question: Was Grandpa an ideological Nazi? Our family lore emphasized the genius engineer theme and disregarded the fact that Robert Lusser joined the Nazi party in 1937 to advance his career. Read more: Auschwitz was liberated 80 years ago. The spotlight is on survivors as their numbers dwindle A decade later, the Office of Strategic Services, precursor to the CIA, cleared my grandfather of any crimes, in part because it benefited America's Cold War cause to have him on our weapons team. Investigators categorized him as Mitläufer — a 'fellow traveler' — someone who benefited from Hitler's regime while not actively participating in its atrocities. My grandfather stood silent in the face of evil because that was the beneficial, easier choice. Just as many Germans ignored the rise of National Socialism in the 1920s and '30s, too many Americans are ignoring what's happening here a century later. "Antisemitic incidents in the U.S. rose 140% from 2022 to 2023,' Oren Segal of the Anti-Defamation League's Center on Extremism told me. 'We documented over 10,000 incidents between the Oct. 7th, 2023, attack on Israel and its anniversary in 2024.' Read more: Contributor: As a Holocaust survivor, the most important thing I can do is share my story After wrestling with generational guilt, which feels like a curse handed down through time, and questioning my responsibility as an American personally connected to Nazi history, I made a decision. When swastika flags fly in America and white supremacists shout 'Heil Hitler!' and racial slurs, when a presidential surrogate offers a Nazi-style salute and makes common cause with Germany's neo-Nazi-adjacent political party, the AfD, I will not be a fellow traveler. Or a bystander. My first social media post using my family history as a cautionary tale was viewed almost 2 million times and drew thousands of comments, some full of hate and ridicule. It makes me anxious to put myself in the public eye, but it's no underground death camp, without sunlight, escape or hope. When Oskar and I spoke last May at the Kaplan Feldman Holocaust Museum in St. Louis, it was standing room only. 'Suzanne Rico is a descendant of a Nazi engineer,' said the master of ceremonies. Oskar nodded his white-haired head as 300 people waited to hear what I had to say. I said that history's most terrifying ghosts are coming back to life. If you don't believe me, look closely at photos taken on an Ohio street or a Missouri interstate. Pay attention to the covered faces of cowards trying to intimidate through fear. And then ask yourself: What uncomfortable legacy might we leave our children and grandchildren if we stay silent this time around? Suzanne Rico is an award-winning television and print journalist. She hosts the podcast "The Man Who Calculated Death." @suzannerico on all platforms If it's in the news right now, the L.A. Times' Opinion section covers it. Sign up for our weekly opinion newsletter. This story originally appeared in Los Angeles Times.